


the importance of nasal breathing

by tostitos



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Awkward Boners, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bad Flirting, Crack Treated Seriously, Drunken Flirting, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Smut, Touchy-Feely, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Why Did I Write This?, doyoung is a fucking mess lmao, i hate this honestly truly, mention of Johnny/Mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28872288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tostitos/pseuds/tostitos
Summary: Taeyong stares down at Doyoung with wide eyes, the blush on his cheeks only visible when they pass by a street lamp. “...I-Is that a thing you do?”“Think about touching your dick?”(Or, the one where Doyoung has had a little too much to drink and he loses his filter around his supervisor after a office party.)
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 9
Kudos: 171





	the importance of nasal breathing

**Author's Note:**

> this title is garbage but that is where the charm lies
> 
> this was supposed to be 100% serious and then it became ridiculous and i wanted to trash it but would i be me if i didn’t post my shitfics and then proceed to lose sleep over people reading it 🤪🤙

Kim Doyoung is _not_ drunk. He’s had a little bit to drink but the world isn’t spinning nearly enough for him to call himself trashed. It’s a shame, really, because that’s what he wanted: to get well and truly _fucked up_ to celebrate not getting that promotion to senior editor that he worked his ass off for almost two years to get instead of that slimy kiss-ass Kim Jungwoo. But, he was dragged out of the bar he and a few coworkers came to toss back vodka and talk shit in and led into the back of a taxi sooner than desired.

He’s not drunk.

He still wants to have _something_ good come out of tonight.

“D-Doyoung.”

Doyoung makes a sound between a giggle and a hum, blinking his eyes open to see the slightly ruffled fabric of a pair of black suit pants. He turns his head, pressing his cheek into a solid thigh and glancing up a wrinkly, white button-down covered chest to find dark eyes he usually has a problem keeping eye contact with when he’s sober and in the office.

“Oh, hi, Taeyong.” He giggles again, burying his face in the other man’s pants again to hide his smile.

A hand curves around his shoulder and if Doyoung was a little less sloppy maybe he’d recognize the frantic grip of those fingers. But all he can think about is how he’s spent the last two years not only fighting for a promotion, but fighting to get rid of a pesky... _crush_ on the Senior Editor, and it’s so funny that now Doyoung’s ( _not)_ drunk and lying in his lap in the back of a taxi after not getting the promotion.

It’s like the universe is determined to make a fool out of him today. Doyoung would be stressed about that, but he tries to bury himself in the cushion of Taeyong’s legs instead.

“Doyoung, really...” Taeyong taps at his shoulder. “I know I let you lay in my lap to sober up, but I need you to just— please move down.”

“Move where,” Doyoung mumbles, mouth pressed against the smooth fabric of Taeyong’s slacks. “Your legs are comfy.”

Voice pinched, Taeyong lifts his hips and Doyoung awkwardly slides down his legs. “Please. _You’re too close to my—“_

Doyoung eyes are level with the belt buckle and he blinks at the ill-fitted tightness of the area below it and a faint wet print of a mouth. “Oh.” His entire body is on fire with inebriation, but he’s still able to feel a little embarrassment in his cheeks. “Was I talking to your dick?”

A giggle escapes his mouth and before he can think better of it, he lifts a hand to try and rub at the damp spot on Taeyong’s pants as if that’ll dry it. “I’m sorry.” Taeyong gasps at the touch and tries to flick Doyoung’s hand like it’s a bug. “Definitely not how I pictured touching your dick for the first time.”

Taeyong freezes in an attempt to slowly push Doyoung back down to a more reasonable spot on his thighs. He stares down at Doyoung with wide eyes, the blush on his cheeks only visible when they pass by a street lamp. “...I-Is that a thing you do?”

“Think about touching your dick?”

When Taeyong doesn’t respond, Doyoung looks back down at the body part in question. He bites into his lip, thinks about some of the more depraved late nights and sleep-hazed mornings he’s had ‘thoughts’ about Taeyong. Something like shame makes butterflies flutter in his chest but something like way too many cocktails at the bar makes him open his mouth and say, “Not all the time. Like, over the weekend I had a nice time thinking about _sucking_ you at your desk.”

Taeyong chokes on air.

The taxi driver seems to empathize, making a sound of contempt from the front.

“It was so hot. I imagined doing the cliche thing and crawling under your desk, testing how long you could keep pretending to work with your cock down my throat, how long you could keep quiet and not expose us to the whole office.”

The thighs under Doyoung’s cheeks go stiff as Taeyong’s breath catches.

“Oh.”

“Is that a good ‘oh’?” Doyoung wonders. “An I’m-considering-the-possibilities ‘oh’?”

“I’m _not_ listening to you. You’re drunk. I’m going to take you home—“ Taeyong mumbles, more to himself than to Doyoung.

Doyoung pokes the tip of his finger at his superior’s crotch, drags it over the remains of his mouth print that have begun to dry. It looks a little fuller than it did a moment ago. “I think this is listening to me,” he says, looking up at Taeyong’s panicked face with hazy eyes and a wide grin.

“You’re _drunk_.”

Pressing harder against Taeyong’s crotch, mapping the shape of his shaft with his fingers, Doyoung giggles when Taeyong grabs his hand and holds it down against the seat beside his legs and above Doyoung’s head.

“I’m _buzzed_. And I won’t be as so when we get to wherever we’re going,” says Doyoung. “Your place or mine?”

“Mine,” Taeyong answers. He quickly adds, “But I’m not taking you there to...to...”

“Have your life sucked out of your dick?”

“ _R-Right_.“

Sighing, Doyoung deflates. “Well, my night is ruined then.” He shuts his eyes, resigned to his fate of having no fun that night. At least he tried.

There’s nothing but the sound of the taxi rolling through the city streets for a minute and, in the quiet, Doyoung’s actions start to catch up to him and his lagging sense of shame. He’s slowly realizing the gravity of his actions, when Taeyong shifts below him and lets out an aborted noise.

“Doyoung, I’ll let you lay there but please stop mouth breathing,” he whispers. “I can feel it.”

Closing his mouth, Doyoung feels another wave of heat wash over him. “Oh, right, you’re getting hard, sorry.”

“I’m not getting...”

Doyoung looks up to see Taeyong dragging his hands over his face. “I’ll just sit up since I’m making you uncomfortable.”

When he starts to push up, Taeyong is quick to lay a hand on his shoulder, nudging him back down.

“I don’t mind you lying there, just— it’s trying enough to learn that you fantasize about me when I can’t do anything about it without...your mouth there too,” Taeyong says, voice low and strained like the words are holding onto his tongue, refusing to let go.

Doyoung blinks once...twice. “What?”

Shaking his head, Taeyong sighs. “Just try to rest before we get back to my place.”

“How—“ It gets caught in his throat and Doyoung has to swallow and try again. “How am I supposed to rest when it sounds like you’re saying you’d let me suck your dick if I wasn’t drunk.”

They pass under a streetlight and he can clearly see the full blush staining Taeyong’s cheeks.

Taeyong sucks his upper lip into his mouth and stares at Doyoung with wide eyes, a million thoughts obviously racing through his mind. “So you admit that you’re drunk,” he says in a poor attempt to change to topic.

“I admit that I’ve had a few drinks that are _not_ impacting my desire to suck you like an industrial vacuum.”

“We really shouldn’t-“

“Taeyong,” Doyoung cuts him off, “Do you want me to blow you?”

Taeyong sucks in a harsh breath, big eyes blinking down at Doyoung who pushes up on one arm to be on the same level.

The car rolls to a stop and Doyoung thinks nothing of it, preoccupied with watching the way the flickering street lights glitter in Taeyong’s eyes, but then he hears a throat being cleared.

“We’ve arrived. The total is thirty thousand won. Hurry up and get out and finish this conversation somewhere else.”

  


They don’t really continue the conversation once they’re inside Taeyong’s third floor apartment. Taeyong offers Doyoung a glass of water and he sips at it slowly as he watches his senior pace around. When he finishes drinking half the glass, Doyoung sits it down on the coffee table and get his hands around Taeyong’s shoulders, stopping his fluttering. He steers him to the couch and pushes him down to sit.

Taeyong blinks up at him, with eyes blown so wide Doyoung can’t help but smile fondly at him.

“Why so tense, Mr. Lee? I’m sobering up. You can relax.”

Taeyong bites into his lip and breaks eye contact for a moment, looking over Doyoung’s head at something.

Doyoung chuckles, perching on the arm of the couch. He thinks Taeyong would rather him stay inebriated, rightfully afraid of a sober Doyoung who might be just as equally loud about how dick-deprived he is.

“If you’re uncomfortable, I can find my way home,” Doyoung says. Honestly, he still doesn’t know why Taeyong didn’t just ask for his address.

“You share an apartment with Youngho, right?”

Blinking at the sudden question, Doyoung nods slowly. He does share a two bedroom apartment with Johnny, a literary agent they work with and also one of Doyoung’s close friends.

“So, you’re like...a thing.” Taeyong says in a way which Doyoung can’t tell is a statement or a question.

He can tell the implication of the words, though.

“Are you asking if I’m in a relationship with Johnny?” Doyoung’s brow creases as he grimaces. “John Suh? The owner of the dick in that pic Mark accidentally sent Taeil instead of the new photo for Kim Junmyeon’s upgraded author bio?”

“Wait, that was Youngho? He sends Mark dick pics?”

Doyoung snorts. “They’ve been fucking since Mark joined the company.”

“No way.” Taeyong blinks huge eyes and god, Doyoung thinks he’s so pretty. They’re also back on the topic of dicks which is unfortunate because Doyoung doesn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable by bringing up how he would still like to suck Taeyong until his brain melts and pours out of his ears.

“It’s true.” Doyoung laughs. “Youngho and I are just friends.”

Taeyong licks over his lips and nods slowly, looking away from Doyoung as his face colors again. “I just— You two were a little all over each other tonight and I thought...”

He trails off and Doyoung’s mind begins to race to figure out the end of his sentence when Taeyong doesn’t continue.

Doyoung doesn’t quite figure it out, his mind stopping on something else that stands out. “If you thought I was dating Johnny, why did you call a taxi for me when it’d make more sense for me to stay with him?”

Taeyong stutters, mouth flopping stupidly as he tries to find words. In the end, he bites down hard on his lip and stares down at where he has his hands squeezed between his thighs, body curled in on itself. “I didn’t necessarily think you were dating Johnny. It’s...” He groans. “I thought if you went home together that you might...”

He glances over at Doyoung, a silent plea in his eyes that says he’s hoping Doyoung connects the dots to the rest so he doesn’t have to say it himself.

And Doyoung thinks he _does_ connect the dots. “You didn’t like the thought of Johnny and I possibly drunkenly hooking up so you brought me home with you.”

Taeyong’s grimace and furious blush tells him he’s hit the jackpot.

“Does that mean you’re interested in me,” Doyoung asks, hope clear in his voice.

Inhaling deeply, Taeyong gives a tiny nod.

Doyoung grins. “Hey, why are you so tense about it? You already know now that I’m into you too.”

That helps Taeyong relax a little and he looks at Doyoung again.

“So...” Leaning over the couch, Doyoung places a hand on Taeyong’s thigh. “Can I suck your dick tonight?”

Taeyong slaps Doyoung’s hand off his leg and, reflexes too slow to catch himself, Doyoung tips off the edge of the couch and into Taeyong’s lap.

He looks up at his senior. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

“ _No_! You’re drunk.” Taeyong pushes at Doyoung until he rolls off his lap and onto the floor.

“How about tomorrow morning?” Doyoung asks, completely unfazed as he stretches out on the floor and props his head up in his hand. “You can make breakfast and I can make you cum so hard you white out and almost burn the food.”

Taeyong looks like he wants to burst into flames or throw one of the couch cushions at Doyoung or both.

Doyoung giggles when he receives no response. “Sounds like a good deal, doesn’t it?”

“...Are there levels?” Taeyong asks in a mumble. “I’d rather not come even slightly close to setting the building on fire.”

Surprised that it sounds like Taeyong is agreeing, Doyoung gapes at the older man before grinning wickedly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

**Author's Note:**

> [main twt](https://twitter.com/unflorescent) | [au/fic twt](https://twitter.com/tzannii) | [au twt cc](https://curiouscat.me/tzanni)


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